EFFIE 69 



had just come off rather than a governess who had 

 just arrived, a chuckle hinting at the fact that Miss 

 Grimshaw had been the subject of humorous dis- 

 cussion and speculation in the French household 

 for some time past. 



" You'll ring, miss, when you want me to show 

 you your room," said Norah. Then she withdrew, 

 and Miss Grimshaw found herseM alone with her 

 charge. 



The room was half nursery, haK sitting-room, 

 papered with a sprightly green-sprigged and rose- 

 patterned paper. Pictures from Christmas 

 numbers of the Graphic and pictures of cats by 

 Louis Wain adorned the walls; there were a 

 number of yellow-backed books on a book-shelf, 

 and in one corner a pile of old comic papers — 

 Punchs, Judys and Funs — all of an ancient 

 date. 



All the hght literature in Drumgool House found 

 its way here and remained. The yellow-backed 

 books were the works of Arthur Sketchley, a most 

 pleasing humorist whose name has faded almost 

 from our memories. Mrs Brown'' s 'Oliday Outings, 

 Mrs Brown in Paris, Mrs Brown at the Sea-side — 

 all were here. They had been bought by some 

 member of the French family with a taste for 

 humour, as had also the comic papers. 



To Miss French in her captivity the dead-and- 

 gone artists, the dead-and-gone jokes, the fashions 

 and manners of the 'Eighties, which are as Thebes 

 to us, were fresh and vigorous. Up-to-date 



